


Fishbowl

by OahuPuppy



Series: Aquarium [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Background Relationships, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has Feelings, CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 Has a Different Name, Depressed Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, why isn't that a tag already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OahuPuppy/pseuds/OahuPuppy
Summary: He has no one.





	Fishbowl

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this this morning, right after I woke up. I was laying in bed, and all the light coming in through the window was so grey. It was raining. The birds were quiet. And this just sort of came out of nowhere. What a way to frickin break into the DBH fandom, eh?
> 
> Mind the tags and respect your triggers, please, everyone. If you would like something tagged that isn’t, please don’t hesitate to let me know and I’ll get right on it. I want everyone to be safe, here.
> 
> Remember that you are loved even if you cannot see it, even if those that love you are far away. Don’t be afraid to text or call first, if you want, need, to talk. About anything, everything, nothing. People cannot read minds, and neither can you. However you think they’ll react, you cannot know; they’ll very likely be delighted to hear from you.
> 
>  
> 
> [Click here for a list of suicide hotlines listed by country](http://www.suicidestop.com/call_a_hotline.html)
> 
>  
> 
> Everyone is deserving of help, and you are not alone.
> 
> —
> 
> Nathaniel is RK900  
> Ethan is RK800-60

He has no one.

He has no one.

Hank is gone.

His brothers are never home.

His friends are distant specters at best.

His coworkers don’t know him.

He has no one.

It’s a quiet sort of devastation that has ravaged him. The kind that chokes like wispy smoke suddenly become cloying, that kind that snakes around ankles and yanks you off your feet and drags you down, the kind that seems so inescapable when you’re in it’s throes. The kind that weights your legs with heavy stones and makes you sink, and think, “I’m too far down to swim back up; I might as well see what’s at the bottom.”

He thinks back on the romance era novels he has read and wonders how anyone could have ever described such an utter collapse of a soul as beautiful.

Who he was is tatters in the wind. Who he is is a mask over a hollow shell with empty eyes. He does not think he can ever, will ever, be again.

His spark has gone and he is adrift, pushed back and forth by the current as chains keep him tethered to the bottom. He can only look up to the surface and think, “too far.”

Nathaniel has someone. He has someone with open arms he can fall into. Someone with a heart light enough to share troubles and woes and be a pillar in the dark times. So does Ethan. They have someone. And Connor is happy for them, some broken piece of his soul tells him so, because he loves his self-proclaimed brothers. But Connor’s heart is a place with a vacancy that has never been filled that way. And now, he’s not sure it’s strong enough to hold it.

But, before, he’d wanted.

He’d had someone that made his heart thunder and his chest tighten so sweetly, that made his head spin and his programs glitch, that made him feel things he’d never even imagined existed before. And they never even knew what they meant to him. They still don’t.

If he has his way, he thinks, seated on the guardrail of the bridge and looking out over the river, they never will.

Because Nathaniel has someone to fall back on when times are hard. Ethan does, too. And at the end of the day, so does the one his heart aches for even now, as broken and beaten and hurt as it is. They will be okay. But Connor has no one but himself.

He has no one.

He wants it to stop hurting.

So he raises his hand to his chest,

presses the indent in the center until the component hisses and clicks loose,

and removes his thirium pump regulator.

He dismisses the errors and warnings that crop up,

moves the shutdown timer into the corner of his HUD,

and tosses the regulator behind him.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and the sigh he pushes out is a small cloud of fog. It disappears the instant it’s created. His grip tightens on the railing as he leans forward.

It’s cold, and not yet bright, and the clouds paint the sky in greys and blacks. The wind ruffles his hair and his tie flutters and beats his chest. He thinks it might be beautiful out, this morning.

The hole in his chest steams.

The countdown ticks frantically in the corner.

He closes his eyes.

He breathes.

So beautiful.

He lets go.

And

he

f

a

 

l

 

 

l

 

 

 

s

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His back hits the sidewalk with a muted thud.

His hands search the ground around him until one of them hits the cooling biocomponent.

He grabs it and slowly slots it into his chest, twists it until it clicks into place, halting the timer with seconds.

The dull static in his ears recedes.

He breathes.

The sky is a monochrome canvas of black cotton.

A snowflake drifts down and settles on his nose.

It melts.

He breathes.

So beautiful.

He rises, re-buttons his shirt, adjusts his tie, and starts the walk back to his hollow home in the quiet snowfall.

He has to feed his fish, after all. He can't be late.

**Author's Note:**

> You are loved. Don’t ever for a second let yourself believe that there is no one in the world who loves you. You are valued. You will be okay. You will.
> 
> Don’t hesitate to text, or to call. 
> 
> —
> 
> Blaaah, wow. First fic is a depressing thing that I wrote in under an hour and friggin…..didn’t even edit or read thru before posting. Sorry for any grammar errors, y’all :P I literally wrote this in the draft of my smutfic. We’re up at the top here. I was writing part of it last night before bed and it was there so, oops, that’s where this draft went too! Jesus. 
> 
> I mean, I have a fairly intimate relationship with all this, so. Really, if any of you need to talk to someone, just to like vent or talk about whatever, and you think you have no one, there’s a comment section right below. I don’t always know what to say, no one does, we can’t all be psychologists after all, but really if nothing else I’ll listen. And sometimes I tell jokes. Don't let me tell jokes they're terrible. 
> 
> Anyway I’m gonna go get...wow okay, brunch I guess. And a painkiller cuz coughing for two weeks straight is big oof for your core my guy do not recommend. Thank you for reading!


End file.
